


Changing Things Up

by Gee_Writes



Category: Free!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Daddy Kink-ish, Future Fic, M/M, Misunderstandings, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Possessive Sex, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 14:28:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4709372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gee_Writes/pseuds/Gee_Writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haru's worried that Makoto isn't as interested in him, sexually, anymore.  In desperation, he goes to Nagisa, who suggests something crazy.</p><p>Fic commision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changing Things Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic comission for the lovely dewmelts, who was kind enough to want to share this fic.
> 
> Her commission was: Makoto and Haru haven’t really done anything new in bed and Haru’s afraid Makoto is getting bored of him so he asks Nagisa for advice. Nagisa suggests that he tries calling Makoto ‘daddy.’ The first time Haru does it Makoto kinda freaks outs and is super embarrassed. Nagisa encourages Haru to try again, and Makoto goes with it this time and pretty much goes into orca mode.

He's happy with their relationship. They've been together a majority of their lives and romantically involved for the best part of seven years. Makoto's the only person he's loved, and he doesn't think that will change – doesn't want that to change. They're happy together, it's just...

Sex recently has been – well, for lack of a better word – lacking.

It's less the fact that something has changed, but more so that things have stayed the same. For years.

Haruka shouldn't complain – Makoto's hot; _really hot_ . And even now, years into their relationship, it's easy for Haru to get worked up by the idea of Makoto – thick muscle and bright eyes and _such strength_. The way his breath gets heavier in his ear, deliciously low moans as he starts to unravel. In all his twenty-five years of life, he's never met anyone who even comes close to Makoto's pure desirability.

And Makoto has always been very dutiful when it comes to sex; always ensures Haru's satisfied – talented hands, talented mouth, talented dick. Knows every spot and move that Haru likes; and in turn, Haru prides himself in knowing the same for Makoto.

They do the same things over and over, which should be fine, right? Why fix what isn't broken? But more and more frequently he's been noticing that although he always ends up sticky and satisfied in their recent activities, that hasn't been the quite the same situation for his boyfriend. Nights where Makoto hasn't cum at all; and every time he wants to help him out, he just smiles and urges him to rest – cleaning up and making sure Haru's OK – falling asleep next to him all too soon. If it was just that then... well, Haru was sure he could figure it out. But it was the times he's overheard Makoto in the shower, biting back groans as he stands under the warm water. Always louder than he realises.

It was the fact that Makoto seemingly wanted to spend more intimate time with his hand than with Haru that had him doubting. Back when they had started dating, sex had been so exciting and explosive; he wanted to get back to that in their physical relationship. When every kiss had felt too hot; when Makoto had once gotten so excited he had ripped Haru's favourite pair of jammers in haste – they'd been so satisfied afterward Makoto hadn't apologised, and Haru hadn't minded.

But that seemed like years ago now – in fact, it was. He didn't like to think that sex defined their relationship, but he wasn't going to say it didn't matter to him. He liked being intimate with his best friend, his first-and-only love. He didn't want to feel this sickening undercurrent, didn't want to second-guess their relationship like this. He had thought about talking to Makoto about it; but knew his sweet, considerate, wonderful boyfriend would deny it. Wouldn't want Haru to worry about him, about this.

So desperate times called for desperate measures; which is why he was stuck here waiting for Nagisa to arrive at the family restaurant just outside Shinjuku station's south exit. He's been sitting here for close to twenty minutes now, fiddling with his phone as he avoids compulsively checking his messages. He's sitting with a half-empty glass of water, the wait-staff eyeing him off as the time passes.

Nagisa bursts in, his trademark bustle and energy immediate as he passes the girl welcoming customers and beelines for Haru, arms out, ready to pounce. He slides just out of his reach, but waves in greeting anyway.

“Haru-chan!!! It's been so long!!!” His voice is as loud as Haru remembers, and even so many years out of high school, he's still retained his childlike exuberance.

But despite his playful personality and extreme overzealousness, Nagisa was the only one Haru could trust with this; he'd been a close friend and teammate for years, understood Haru and Makoto's relationship better than anyone. And despite his appearance, was less likely to make light of the situation like Rin might. Rin was one of his closest friends, yes, but he wasn't very helpful when it came to problems – his own or others'. Plus, there was always the added bonus that he was sure Nagisa was a complete sexual deviant. If someone knew how to spice up a relationship, he was sure it would be him.

Nagisa was currently working at one of the city's largest building companies as a junior engineer; the same place Rei was employed at – his high scores and overall competency landing him a very comfortable accounting job. He and Nagisa had only been dating for the past two years, but it wasn't really a surprise to anyone when they had gotten together – Haru and Makoto had been front-and-center to both sides of their relationship, and it was a relief when everything had finally worked out. Since then, Nagisa had made it a point to keep Haru informed on his relationship. Very informed. Just another reason why Haru thought he would be the best person to ask for, well, sex advice.

He waits for Nagisa to order something ridiculous and sugar-filled, cream topped and chocolate swirled. He's not a swimmer anymore, so Haru's surprised he can still eat such sweet food without a problem. When he voices such concerns, though, all he gets is a laugh in return. Boisterous and full as he loosens his tie, eyes assessing what part of his dessert-drink he should start on first.

“You're such an athlete, Haru-chan. I don't have to worry about my calorie intake like you do!” Voice a little too loud, making Haru wince a little. “Plus, I mean, I burn enough energy to compensate anyway,” eyebrows wiggling in suggestion. Typical.

“How is Rei?”

“Same as ever; he thinks he's being all secretive about his plans for our anniversary, but I'll be sure to act surprised. He really goes all-out with these sorts of things,” Mouth closing over a cream-covered spoon as he digs into the mountain atop his drink. Silver spoon pointed to Haru once it's clean. “I'm sure he'll be surprised at my present, though.”

Haru's almost certain he can guess what that entails, but he raises his eyebrows in silent question anyway.

“Lace lingerie. Purple; to highlight his eyes.” Smile mischievous, head resting on his hand. “And a jumbo size of our favourite brand of lube. It tingles!”

“Sounds nice.” And something in his voice must have tipped him off – or perhaps the fact that Haru hadn't immediately dismissed Nagisa's overzealous over-sharing – because all of a sudden, pink eyes are wide, previous humour gone.

“Haru-chan, is everything OK?” Head lifting from his hand, posture straightening. “Is something wrong with Mako-chan?” He looks a little horrified.

Haru hates even considering that – that there might be something _wrong_ between them – but he's not too far off the mark. Nagisa has always been good at reading situations, people. Not as good as Makoto, but definitely better than Haru ever has. It makes segueing the conversation easier, at least. His voice is barely over a whisper, doesn't like talking about something so personal.

“I don't think Makoto wants to have sex with me...” He can't look his friend in the eye, but he can feel the intensity of his stare. “I think he finds me boring.”

The clatter of the spoon hitting the table is louder than Haru's really comfortable with, and he feels like the entire restaurant is looking at them. He chances a peek at Nagisa's face; surprised to see his jaw slack in shock.

“No way, Haru-chan!! I know for a _fact_ Mako-chan thinks you're the sexiest person on Earth.” Voice emphasising like it's the most obvious thing in the world, “he'd be fucking you every minute of the day if he could.”

“Nagisa!” he hisses, embarrassed flush flaring up his eyes darting to the few people around them; families and a half-dozen students. Luckily, no one seems to have noticed their conversation, or the younger's more colourful language. Either that or they're too polite to say anything.

“It's true!” thin body leaning over the table so they're nearly nose-to-nose, “I don't know what gave you the idea Mako-chan doesn't like you anymore; but you're the only person that can get his blood going, y'know?”

It's not that he doesn't believe the blond, but the memories of overhearing Makoto in the shower ring loudly in his head; more convincing than kind words from his friend.

“Maybe the fact he'd rather get off in the shower than let me touch him is why I think so,” irritation bubbling up. He's not angry at Nagisa, or even Makoto, but himself. The condensation of his water glass is leaving a puddled ring on the tabletop, and he dips his finger in it as he huffs, drawing crude fish outlines. “It's been a while since he's finished when we're together too; like I'm not enough for him anymore.”

He's pointedly not looking at Nagisa right now – doesn't want to see the reaction that admittance causes. His cheeks are burning, in shame more than embarrassment, and it's frustrating how useless he feels having to go to someone else for relationship advice. He's supposed to be Makoto's boyfriend – and before that, his best friend. Doesn't like to think he's misunderstood something when it comes to Makoto. That he's not enough.

He's so wrapped up in his own self-deprecating thoughts that he jumps a little when Nagisa grabs his hand. Rather than the disgust or pity he expects to see, Nagisa looks more exasperated than anything.

“Oh, Haru-chan!" Shaking his head, as if scolding a small child, “if you ask me – which you are, because why else would you come all the way out to Shinjuku to meet me – there's definitely a reason for that; but I can promise it's not because Mako-chan doesn't wanna have sex with you!!” Voice, again, too loud for Haru to be comfortable with.

“In fact, I think it might be the opposite!” Leaning in conspiratorially; so close, Haru can smell the strawberry shampoo he uses.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, Haru-chan, you're not exactly the most open person to change...” Haru's pretty sure he's frowning pretty hard now, but even so it doesn't seem to perturb Nagisa, “so I think Mako-chan doesn't want to force you into doing something for his sake.”

It makes sense. Makoto was selfless to a fault, and it wasn't unfathomable to think he'd withdraw from Haru in some misguided attempt to keep him happy. It hurts a little to think they might not communicate as well as he thought they did – but he's a bit happier with the idea that Makoto doesn't find him unattractive or boring. If the gentle giant is just worried that Haru doesn't want to change what they're doing in bed, then all he has to do is convince him that he does. That they can try new things together.

Ideas are floating to the front of his mind on how to do such a thing – drifting away from the bright family diner, Nagisa, and his ridiculously sweet-looking drink. He doesn't know how much time has passed when his focus starts to return to the present, but Nagisa's sitting across from him, a smug grin on his face.

“Do you want me to give you a clue to help you, Haru-chan?” His fingers are laced together, elbows leaning on the table, face the picture of innocence. “I know something that'll really catch Mako-chan's interest!” His voice is a little sing-songy, and Haru would be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued.

He's trying to keep his cool, expression unimpressed. It usually works, but Nagisa's known him too long – knows how interested Haru gets when Makoto's involved – so he's unconvinced. Just leans even closer, whisper against his ear before Haru can even react or protest against the intrusion of his space by the former breaststroker.

“ _Next time you start having some fun, try calling him_ _ **Daddy**_ _.”_

His words send a shiver down his spine; ideas and possibilities inspiring things in Haru. It's not something he'd ever considered before, but he wants to see Makoto's reaction to the name.

Wants to discover a new side to his boyfriend after all these years.

 

* * *

  

It's twelve days later before Haru can put his new plan into motion. He's spent a lot of time thinking over how he should ask Makoto about it, but ultimately decides it'd be easier to just do it – Haru's never been very good at being sneaky, or overt about his feelings; better to just dive right in, as it were.

He'd wanted to try out his new 'secret word' – as Nagisa so insistently called it – as soon as he'd gotten home that first day, but unfortunately life seemed to keep getting in the way. Mostly his, to be fair. First it was conditioning – eighteen hour days preparing for an upcoming East-Asian meet; the rare times he wasn't swimming or doing strength training, he was sleeping. Sweet, perfect, lovely Makoto would welcome him home and usher him to bed, dote on him as he kissed him goodnight; and Haru would fall sleep immediately, too bone-tired to even think about sex.

The meet itself passed much faster than should be allowed for such preparation; but with swimming, it's always the same. Haru wins two firsts and a second, as well as defending his Olympic time record, and Makoto kisses him breathless when he meets him afterwards in the changing rooms. Haru almost considers slipping in the idea here, but too soon they're apart again – waiting journalists hoping to hear from Japan's swimming champion. They interview him for longer than Haru has any patience for, but he tries to keep his answers cordial. Cameras flash all around him and the sea of microphones is thick and intimidating. He's never liked the publicity side of his occupation, but he's thankful his coach is there alongside him – able to answer things he knows Haru doesn't want to. Even so, it's the most trying part of professional swimming for him, and all he wants is to go home. Instead, victory drinks and celebrations by the team have him bar-hopping for nearly the whole night.

When he manages to wake himself up late the next morning, the only sign of Makoto is a handwritten note and some aspirin left on his bedside table. He's already at the sports club where he coaches, so Haru's missed seeing him off. He curses his hangover, as well as the Japanese drinking culture, as he rolls out of bed; checking Makoto's schedule on the fridge, the penciled time indicates that the brunet wouldn't be home until the evening. Haru's annoyed, but knows that he shouldn't be – if he tried to keep Makoto home it'd be too selfish of him. His boyfriend loves his job, and the kids, and he's perfectly suited for the work.

Rather than mope around, he instead starts doing the various chores he's let slip since last week. Makoto's been very good at keeping things clean, so there's no mess around, but a quick check affirms his suspicions that their fridge is empty. Pulling on his closest outfit and comfortable shoes, he heads towards their local supermarket.

 

*

 

He's restocked the fridge (and their bedside table, with something other than groceries), and has been making Makoto's favourite meal – green curry bubbling quietly on the stove – as he waits for him to return home from work. It's the first time they've had some time together for too long; and aside from rekindling their sex life, he just wants to spend the time with Makoto in the best way possible. To share a meal and their time. To be with each other.

He can hear Makoto turn the key just as the rice finishes cooking – calling out his greeting as he removes his shoes at the door. Haru comes to meet him in the entrance, the _welcome home_ pressed against his lips as he kisses him for the first time today. He leans in to return it, a tilted smile once they've drawn back; chlorine still strong on his skin.

“Something smells great, Haru!” Poking his head into the kitchen after him. “Curry?”

He just nods rather than saying anything, and passes the cutlery to the taller. Fills their plates and brings them over himself.

They say thanks and start eating, Haru happy when Makoto's face lights up even further – a little happy moan over how good it tastes.

“Not that I'm complaining, but what's the occasion, Haru?” green eyes questioning. “It's not every day you make curry, and it's not my birthday yet.”

Haru doesn't think the _I feel sorry for having to deceive you like this, but it's been a long time and I want you to fuck me senseless tonight, so this is a pre-emptive apology. Also, hopefully, you'll need the energy._ would be appropriate to say, despite it being the truth; so instead he just settles with, “I've been too busy recently. Sorry.” Which is also the truth.

“It's not your fault, Haru! You had to prepare for your big race; I understand.”

Haru can't say anything to that, instead picking at the remaining rice on his plate; can feel the blush burning on his face. Makoto's eyes are on him, and he hopes the other finishes his food quickly – he wants to get to the next step of his plans for the evening. Makoto takes a second helping and is eyeing a third before Haru takes his plate to clean, smirking at the sheepish grin that gets. Standing to help, Makoto grabs a dish towel to dry.

Rather than starting the dishes like he usually would, though, Haru instead loops his arms over his boyfriend's shoulders, pulling him down into a kiss. Makoto's kind and welcoming, even in this; warm mouth and lips parting for his tongue, sweet moans swallowed down. Strong arms circle his waist, and Haruka can feel the heat of the large body against him as he's drawn closer.

Haru loves the way it feels when they kiss, so comfortable and familiar; a magical meeting of tongues and lips that bloom fireworks behind his eyes every time. Soft hair between his fingers as he holds on; wants to lose himself in this taste, this feeling.

It's probably only been a few minutes, but it feels like a lot longer – anticipation is thrumming beneath his skin. Makoto smiles to him when they finally part from each other, little “Hi” his only response. Haru gives his own little “Hi” in return – his smile only a fraction of Makoto's, but just as loving. His head lolls as the taller noses against Haru's neck, tickling in the way he loves.

The situation's heading in the right direction, and he's hoping Nagisa was right and that this will work. He wants to feel and experience tonight. Wants Makoto to fill him full – to lose himself by Haru's side. Won't have to hide away in the bathroom secretly like he has been.

Makoto's tracing the line of his collarbone with his lips, hair tickling against his cheek. A rosy ear peeks out of brown hair, and Haru can't help bending to lick the shell of it – feels the way his boyfriend jumps a little at the sensation. Likes the whine it draws out. It boosts his confidence, and it seems now-or-never.

Mouth close to the pink ear, whispering.

“I've been thinking about you _all day_ ; wanted you here with me.”

He can feel the strong muscles still slightly against him, but he can't tell if that's good or not from this position. He decides to chance it and keep going when Makoto presses his tongue against his pulse, even though his embarrassment is flaring up.

“All I could think about today is you inside me, _Daddy_.” Punctuating with a grind against the thick thigh between his legs; it's weird how one word can make him feel like surrendering – leaves him at Makoto's mercy – and he wants to see how his boyfriend handles it.

It doesn't seem like he'll ever know, though, because as soon as Makoto can make sense of what's been said, he freezes and jumps away at the same time. Green eyes are wider than Haru's ever seen, and he looks to be shaking a little.

“H-H-H-Haru??? W-What?” The waver of his voice is enough of a tell to the athlete that Makoto is embarrassed, even if his face wasn't beet red. “S-Sorry, I. Haru, what are..? Sorry. I... I'm going to go.”

He's looking at Haru like something's short-circuited in his mind, and there's an awkward space between them. Apologising again, he looks like he wants to run as far from the shorter swimmer as he can get. Rather than that, he gently eases Haru off of himself and quickly retreats to their study. It's the first time Makoto's outright rejected Haru's advances, and it stings. He feels stupid for going to Nagisa with a problem like this, rather than talk to Makoto directly – and now he's made it worse.

He's not sure whether Makoto wants to see him right now, so rather than head to the study, he cleans their dinner dishes. His stomach is flipping in little nauseous circles, and the comfortable warmth that was so close before has left a chill.

Hands are red from the hot water, he tries to finish quickly. Doesn't like this uncertainty that's been hovering over them. He needs to go apologise to Makoto for ruining their night, ruining the mood; but first he has to make a very important phone call.

He presses the buttons of his phone, wet fingers slipping a bit, waiting for the electronic ringing to stop. Instead of the instant pick-up he's used to from his friend, it just keeps going to his rambunxious voicemail. Over and over and over.

Nagisa isn't answering, and he's tried nearly a dozen times now. Rather than let the blond ruin his night even further, he decides to just let him call him back. Until then, he'd have to try and convince his boyfriend that he hasn't gone crazy. Better prepare the hot chocolate now.

 

*

 

It isn't until the next day when Nagisa returns his calls, name flashing cheerfully on the screen of his phone. Haru's at home alone, Makoto having just left for work, earlier than usual – awkwardly saying his goodbyes, not staying for breakfast as he grabbed his sports bag and left for morning swim lessons. Haru barely had a chance to say goodbye before the door clicked in the lock; the loud jingle of his ringtone in the following silence making him jump before furiously pressing the green phone.

“ _ **Haru-chan!!! You haven't called for a while, how are**_ **things** _ **going?”**_

“Nagisa, I'm never trusting you again.” He can feel the anger bubbling up, everything about the cheer in the blond's voice making his mood worse.

“ _ **Wai-wait, Haru-chan! Don't hang up!!”**_ Nagisa's shouting down the phone line even more so than usual, and Haru considers hanging up just to spite him – but he's not done venting his anger on him yet.

“You were totally wrong, Nagisa. I tried doing what you said, but it just scared off Makoto even more – he's not even looking at me right now.” Nagisa gasps a little and seems to be clicking his tongue in thought. He doesn't seem to be as regretful as Haru wants him to be. In fact, he doesn't sound sorry at all. “It took me an hour to get him to let me into the study, Nagisa. He was pretty freaked out and embarrassed, and I honestly don't blame him. I don't know how I let you convince me to do that.”

He wants Nagisa to know how bad this is. How bad they've made it. He wanted to be reassured about his relationship, but this had been the completely wrong way to do it. His ears are ringing, and he finds it amazing he's even able to concentrate on their conversation.

“ _ **Oh Haru-chan, you took my advice because you were desperate!!”**_ Haru flinches at that, but he can't deny it. _**“But I wasn't lying to you; Mako-chan was probably so embarrassed because he was so affected by your sexy words and didn't know what to do!! You just have to convince him harder next time, Haru-chan!”**_

Haru wants to disagree, to tell Nagisa that all his advice has done is made things worse, but the dial tone is beeping in his ear before he has the chance. Always quick to wriggle out of the messes he causes.

He's still angry and annoyed, but Nagisa has a point; for Makoto to react so strongly, there had to be a reason – and Haru was pretty sure his boyfriend wasn't angry, just embarrassed. He's going to try one more time, tonight, and hope it works. He has to give some credit to Nagisa – anyone able to get Rei Ryuugazaki into a sexual relationship has to be owed even a little respect.

Time to figure out how to be convincing.

 

* * *

 

 

Makoto's out even later than the night before – Haru's pretty sure he's trying to avoid him – but the swimmer won't allow his boyfriend to try going back to pretending like things are normal. In light of his previous failed attempt, he's decided to return to what he knows works with Makoto, before introducing something new.

Which is why he's been sitting in their bathtub for two hours now – skin wrinkled and hair damp. Slow dripping from the tap is the only thing breaking the quiet in their apartment, and he's starting to get impatient. He's washed every inch of himself, twice, in preparation; and he's just starting to to consider crawling out to find his phone to see where on Earth his boyfriend is, when he hears the door opening and the muted _I'm home_. Shoes drop in the genkan, and he can hear heavy footsteps as Makoto looks around the apartment – his _“Haru?”_ tinged with worry when he can't find him right away.

“In here,” his reply echoes across the tiles, and he can hear the change of direction that causes. The door opens and Makoto pokes his head into the bathroom – surprised to see Haru in the bath so late. Rather than let the tall brunet leave, Haru waves him closer; holding his hand out for Makoto to take, green eyes crinkle as nostalgic chuckles start to form. Strong arm pulls him up, and water sloshes around his legs from the sudden movement. Makoto passes a towel to Haru as he steps out of the bath, his nakedness no longer a source of embarrassment for either of them – they've been together far too long for that.

He can feel Makoto wanting to ask him why he's taking a cold bath at night; it's been years and years since he's felt the need to soak like he once had – he's swimming often enough that it hasn't been necessary. The tension is building, and Haru's not sure he wants it dispelled. Drying himself as needed, Makoto trails behind him, not sure what to ask or how to ask it.

“Have you had a good day?” Haru turns to his boyfriend as he asks, the shock still not quite gone from the other man's face.

“Yeah, uh... good! Work was good. Haru...” Following after him as he makes his way to the bedroom. Confusion growing as the towel drops, but no movement from the other to pull on some clothes. “Haru, aren't you... Aren't you going to get dressed?”

“Waste of time; I won't need them soon anyway.”

Haru almost laughs at the little drop of Makoto's jaw that gets. It's reminiscent of the first time they had sex, back in Iwatobi, and just how shocked he had been then too. He trails his fingers and eyes down Makoto's side, thin fabric over hard muscle, and can feel green eyes staring at him. Haru's sure it's because of all the strange tension in the air recently, and he hopes the other will just let this happen. They can talk about it after.

Rough fingers mimic the movements down Haru's side, and he leans into Makoto's touch. Hand settling on his hip, Haru chances looking up, straight to his boyfriend's own gaze.

It feels like forever since they've looked at each other properly, and Haru's relieved at the arousal he can see in Makoto's face; dark pupils dilating in the dim light of the bedside lamp, soft crinkle at the corner of soft eyes. He kisses him hard and purposefully, pushing his tongue as soon as Makoto loosens his jaw. Heart thumping in his chest, hands pulling at the fabric of Makoto's shirt, he can feel the rush of blood around his body.

Makoto breaks the kiss to pull the soft garment over his head, and Haru whines a little at the loss. Not wanting to make the same mistake as the night before, he keeps a close eye on the way the broad back moves – whether any uneasiness or embarrassment is lingering in the large frame. The speed at which he's trying to remove his pants is a pretty good sign, though, Haru thinks.

He grabs a large hand as soon as Makoto's stepped out of his pants – pulling him to the bed and settling back on his elbows. He's hard, the cool night air only accentuating how hot he feels; Makoto seems a little struck, and Haru can't help tracing his foot down the other's leg, wants him closer. He can't get too ahead of himself, though, want's to see if that word, Daddy, has any sort of positive effect.

He hooks his leg around Makoto's waist, reaching out with both hands to pull the taller closer. Green eyes are bright, and tanned skin rosy; he looks about ready to pounce, and this is exactly where Haru wants them to be. Pulling himself a little more upright, he feels the way thick arms move to accommodate him, dick swaying slightly as Haru eyes it, licks his lips. He wraps his hand around it and Makoto moans deliciously, soft pulls just enough to give a teasing friction.

“Makoto, I...” He's never been great with words, but he's been practicing what to say for the last twelve hours; Haru's pretty sure he can do this. “I've wanted this thick dick in me for weeks, fucking me _hard_ ,” squeezing slightly to get his point across. “Make me feel it, _**Daddy**_.”

Thankfully, rather than repeat what happened the night before, Makoto moans loudly at that; hips stuttering a little to get more friction from the athlete's hands.

“A-Are you sure about this, Haru?” Voice stuttering from arousal rather than embarrassment.

“ **Fuck yes** ,” pulling Makoto's hesitant hand to his dick, the first time Makoto's properly touched him since they've moved to the bed. He makes sure to moan long and loud, not hiding his voice so he'll get the picture. “I want you to cum in me; to make me ache until next week.”

Something in that makes Makoto snap, eyes clouding over as he dives for Haru's mouth. Haru can hardly take a breath before strong tongue is slipping into his mouth, pushing past his shock. Hands tighten around his erection, and Makoto takes advantage of his boyfriend's reaction by sucking his tongue – long and purposeful. Haru can feel it shoot straight to his groin, precum beading at the tip. He's stopped his own ministrations, but he's pretty sure the taller man doesn't mind too much.

Strong lips break their kiss, but almost immediately they're on his neck – nibbling and sucking, he can feel the attention being poured into each bruise. Soft kisses pressed to the skin once he's done with each spot; Haru's gripping large shoulders, goosebumps spreading down his neck and chest.

He's losing his breath as Makoto rises up off of him, looking down at his handy work. Haru can feel the subtle throb of bruising down his neck and collarbone, and he can only imagine how dark his boyfriend's handiwork will be tomorrow.

Makoto looks like he's trying to catch his breath, voice lower than Haru can remember in recent history. “I'm finally allowed to do this; you won't be reprimanded by your coach.” Red blush creeping up pale skin in blotches, small whine at how happy Makoto sounded.

“I don't have to think about other people or your public reputation. Finally allowed to show that you're mine.”

Haru's mind flashes with the thousands of camera bulbs of the media. Ever since his Olympic win, his life hadn't really been his, theirs. Had to be aware of everything he did in public, especially before and after a big race. Obvious now that it hadn't just been him affected by his rising fame.

Large thumb brushes over a nipple, and he pushes into the movement. Chest rising and falling rapidly with his breathing.

“Always yours; always.” Can't help the breathy cry when Makoto licks the same nipple.

He trails his tongue down; rolling across the muscled plains of Haru's stomach, dipping into his bellybutton for just a moment. From their position, all Haru can do is curl his toes – dick dripping precum as the brunet travels lower. Strong arms lift him up, hips slightly off the bed, and Haru can feel teeth drag along the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.

“No one sees you here, though. The only place that's mine alone.” The words are a growl against his thigh; punctuated by another suck, a soft bite. He's humming against the skin, and each vibration shoots straight to Haru's dick. He's so hard in the cold air, but Makoto is blistering hot; he can't wait to feel even more.

Haru can see the purpling bruises blooming on the white of his leg skin much easier than the ones higher, and the sight of Makoto's brown hair between his legs makes his stomach flip excitedly. He's already wound tight – wants to see how far this goes before the pressure's released.

Seemingly happy with the dozen marks marring Haru's thighs – spots where no one would be able to tell, aside from themselves – Makoto takes the opportunity to lick his way up to Haru's sac, carefully suckling the thin skin there. His hand's resumed the lazy stroking from earlier, and Haru tries desperately to meet his strokes with his own thrusts.

The wetness of Makoto's tongue moves lower, carefully prodding against Haru's rim. The sensation has Haru crying out, blush bright in the dim light.

“Haru, lube.”

It takes a second for his brain to recognise what's been said, and he struggles to get to the drawer. Shakily he retrieves the bottle and passes it down.

“This isn't our usual brand,” fingers stumbling with trying to pop the lid off.

“I-It tingles.”

Makoto's smile looks hungry, curling in a way that has Haru wanting to feel it on him. A slippery, thick finger prods at his ass, and Haru releases a shaky breath at the feeling. It's been a long time, so he knows they won't slip in as easily as usual, rocks back on the digit to hurry the process up. Soon it's joined by a second, at the intrusion has him whimpering a little. He doesn't know how long it's been since they started, but it feels like he's been hard forever. Been wanting this forever. The tingle settles into the sensitive muscles around his rim, and he squirms with the added feeling it gives. Thick fingers are stretching as they move up into him, fingertips barely brushing against his prostate, sparking lights behind his eyelids.

Pulling his hand away, the empty space is quickly occupied by Makoto's tongue – hot and wet and talented. Pushing deeper now that he'd been stretched a little, it creates a whole new sensation, and Haru's so preoccupied he doesn't realise how high his hips are being lifted now. The warm pull of muscles just another element adding to the experience. He's having a hard time keeping his eyes open, and the suction of Makoto's mouth is amazing.

Makoto eats him out and Haru can do nothing but shift his legs uselessly in the air, noises long and loud rolling out of him; his dick isn't being touched, but he's starting to think that it won't need to be. That Makoto and his incredible mouth and fingers will undo him just with this.

Before he can get too preoccupied with that possibility, though, Makoto suddenly withdraws – lube and saliva glistening across his lips and chin. Wiping his mouth with his forearm, he lets Haru's hips down to the mattress, grabbing the lube and covering them again. Two fingers slide in again, but it's not enough. A third finger joins the others, and both men are moving more purposefully now – Makoto stabbing them up, scissoring; whilst Haru pushes back forcefully, now able to move more freely. They settle into a steady rhythm, Makoto's grunts of exertion mixing with Haru's. Another finger is added, and Haru barely feels the addition – too lost in the pleasure of the stretch, the rub against his prostate. Makoto's free hand moves to Haru's dick once again and spreads precum purposefully. Squeezing tight and pulls in time to the thrust of his fingers. Makoto seems as breathless as Haru, and he pushes, pulls harder as Haru gets more frantic in his movements, fucking himself on Makoto's hand.

“Tell me when you're cumming,” sentence broken by his panting breath, Haru just letting out a high whine in response.

There're a dozen sparks of pleasure shooting down his spine at every movement. He wants to open his eyes, to see how Makoto looks, but his brain is too hazed with pleasure to figure out how to do that.

Makoto knows every spot that makes Haru feels good; _of course he does_ , and he's using the knowledge to completely ruin the professional swimmer, Haru's sure of it. Another brush against his prostate has him shouting, feeling too good.

“ _Aah_ , _aah_ , _AAH_. _Cum – I'm_ , _aaah –_ ”

Rather than blinding whiteness like he had expected, all of a sudden, things stop. Fingers are gone, and rather than the hard handwork Makoto had been giving him before, he's got his grip at the base of his dick – stopping his crashing orgasm in its tracks. He feels like crying, eyes flying open, desperate, and Makoto's just looking at him; tongue flicking out and drawing his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You look so good like this, Haruka. So needy.” Hand slowly releasing his grip on the other's erection. He dips his head to kiss at one of the larger bruises on milky thighs, and the shiver that runs up his spine from the feeling and the name seems like an echo of the previous pleasure he'd been feeling. He wants to cum, but he's sure his boyfriend has taken his earlier admittance to heart; for Makoto to cum in him, for Haru to feel the pleasurable ache in his body days from now.

Warm body settles closer to his. He can feel Makoto's erection nudging against the back of his leg, can see it when he raises his head and wants to taste it, to touch it with his hands. Makoto spreads more lube along himself, eyes closing momentarily as he moves his hand up and down the length. He hasn't touched himself the entire time Haru's been bouncing on his fingers, or before. It's red and hard and leaking; precum running down into brown hair, dick curved a little to the right. His head drops as he stops, and both hands move to spread Haru's legs, dick nudging his rim. Haru doesn't realise he'd stopped breathing until Makoto pushes in, breath rushing out as he squeezes against the hot head of Makoto's dick.

He's not rushing, but Makoto doesn't stop moving – a steady push-pull of shallow hip thrusts until he's all the way in. Haru's stretched enough and experienced enough that it doesn't hurt, and the hard unyielding heat pushing into him draws out his moan. His legs are lifted above strong shoulders that Haru's always loved, and he can feel Makoto's balls, the muscles of his thighs, against his ass.

Steady thrusts start; just small in-out movements that keep Haru stuffed full. He's just catching on to the tempo when the pace increases – thick dick pulling out near-completely and pushing all the way back in. Choked gasp leaves Haru's throat, and leaves his mouth open and slack. He can hear the smack of their skin, sweaty and hot; Makoto's concentrated grunts only adding to Haru's pleasure.

“Harder, _fuck_ , _**harder**_.” Nudges against his prostate reawakening the desperation in his voice. “ _ **Daddy**_ , _please_. _**Fuck**_ , I – ”

Makoto growls; seemingly possessed. “ _Haruka_ , _aah_. You're so fucking gorgeous like this; so – _**desperate**_ , _**ahh**_.” Hips hitting muscled ass, over and over and over. “You won't be able to walk, l-let alone _swim_.” Precum is leaking a steady stream from Haru now, words just as powerful a tool against him. “ _Only I can have you like this_. _**Aaah**_ , _**aaah – you're mine**_.”

Haru sobs at how close he is, dick jerking in need and hands clawing at the sheets. His brain is being overwhelmed from the pleasure, and the garbled cries he's pouring into the room aren't much help.

“Yes, _yes_ , _**oh fuck**_ , _**yes**_. Aaah – _yours_ , _all yours_. _**Always**_. _**Forever**_. _**Makoto – aah**_ , **Mako-** ”

A hand moves from his hip to his dick, jerking him hard and fast, Makoto's voice low and smoky. “ _ **Cum for me**_ , _**Haruka**_.”

Orgasm crashes into him like a wave, white and hot and a release of so much pressure Haru's sure he's going to die. He feels hoarse, and his hips are being shifted higher despite how rigid his body feels. Makoto's pounding into his ass still, shallow thrusts betraying how close he is. Muscles harden, lock in place, and with a cry of Haru's name, he's emptying into him. Even in an orgasmic haze, he feels the harsh breathing of his boyfriend on his skin. His gradual softening and pulling out; cum squishing loudly in the quiet room.

The bed dips as Makoto gets up, and Haru's mind can't pay attention after that. He's halfway to sleep when his boyfriend returns – washcloth damp with warm water, and the distinct smell of mouthwash.

The gentle way Makoto cleans up is the same as usual, carefully moving the swimmer's body to allow him to wipe up as much of the sticky cum as he can manage. Haru feels his mind settle back to Earth as the cloth carefully pokes around his ass, the nerves flaring up sensitively.

“Don't think about apologising.”

“I wasn't; I just need to get the rest.”

Haru sits up a little, and the strain of the muscles in his back protest weakly. It's not the most pain he's ever felt – being a professional athlete meant that muscle exhaustion was a common symptom – but the satisfaction is different from those times.

Makoto finishes cleaning him up and drops the washcloth into the laundry pile; afterwards scooting closer and smiling, so full Haru can't not smile back.

“I love you, Makoto.”

“Me too; I love you, Haru. More than anyone.”

He leans into the kiss, softer than any they've had tonight, and huffs a breathy little laugh into the other's mouth at the distinct mint taste.

“You didn't have to brush your teeth.” Head resting on the closest shoulder.

“I didn't want my mouth to be gross; I'm sure you don't want to taste that.”

“You saying I don't taste good?” Playful nudge into Makoto's side, no power behind it.

“Not at all; you're delicious, Haru,” nudging right back. “It's a hygiene thing, though.”

His smile is hidden, but Makoto can still feel the curve of lips against the skin of his collarbone. The sweat on his back is cooling, but he doesn't really want to move. Instead, pulls his arms around Haru's back to move him closer into the embrace.

A long time passes before either says anything else, and Makoto thinks that Haru may have just nodded off against his chest. He lifts his fingers to brush back the fine black hair of Haru's fringe and starts a little when Haru starts talking again.

“I'm sorry things have been weird; that I didn't talk to you about it. And about the 'daddy' thing.” Eyelashes fluttering against Makoto's skin as he can feel Haru blink in the dim light of their bedroom light.

“I liked the name, so don't apologise for that. I think I might have gotten a little carried away, actually.” Haru shakes his head, so Makoto doesn't say anything more. He's curious for an explanation for the sudden change, though, so he just hums a little for Haru to continue.

“I, um. Heard you in the shower. A lot. And I was worried you didn't find me sexy anymore or something, because when we had sex it was just me able to cum. And you'd never let me help you finish.” Haru's red again flushed in embarrassment, but sincere; and Makoto feels like the biggest fool in the universe.

“And when I asked Nagisa, he said you might like it if I called you 'daddy', so I thought that maybe that might work,” voice lower than when he'd started.

Makoto hugs him properly now, tight and warm as Haru folds into the larger body. Kisses pressed into black hair, and it's another minute before Makoto pulls back – wanting to say this face-to-face, to make sure Haru knew it was the truth, to show how much Makoto wanted to apologise.

“Haru, don't ever, ever think that I could find you unattractive. You're the most beautiful, handsome, sexy, talented, caring, hardworking, _amazing_ , person I know.” Blue eyes averting to Makoto's chest but quickly returning. “ I love everything about you, and I have for a very long time.”

Haru can't quite keep his blush under control, and Makoto's eyes are so green, so mesmerising he doesn't want to look away.

“I'm an idiot and made assumptions without talking to you, Haru. I didn't want to fill your time with worrying about me when you had so many important races you needed to focus on, but I ended up hurting you in the worst way possible. I'm so sorry, Haru. Can you forgive me?”

Haru just kisses Makoto slow and soft, no need for an apology as he pours as much as he can into it. Smiling again, when they finally stop.

“It's my fault too. I jumped to conclusions.”

Makoto looks like he wants to disagree, but a slender finger presses against his lips before he can. Nodding, Haru withdraws his hand.

Brown head hangs low, chin nearly touching his chest as he quietly admits the next thing.

“I was worried about, about how popular you were getting – like you might finally realise that you deserve better than me, and go find someone who I could never compete with.” Haru doesn't quite believe what he's hearing, eyebrows shooting up. “I wanted to tell the world about our relationship, but I don't want to ruin things for your career either. When we have sex, I know I wouldn't be able to keep that possessive side down – so I was stopping myself before getting too involved; didn't want to stop you from being free, Haru.”

“I don't want that freedom,” the tone of his voice authoritative and sure. “I'm yours. And you're mine. I want people to know. I want everyone to know.”

Makoto laughs a little, but it sounds more like a sob; unnecessary apologies spilling as he hugs Haru tight again, kissing everywhere he can reach, energy draining from his frame.

They lay down to sleep soon after, Makoto falling quickly to sleep after an early morning and such a long, taxing day; heavy breathing soothing in the night air.

Haru feels just as tired, but lays awake, blue eyes burning this moment into his memory so he'll never forget it.

 

* * *

 

 

[...As you said Nakamura-san, it's a beautiful day this morning – sunshine with only a 13% chance of precipitation. Autumn is just around the corner, but it's too soon to be roasting potatoes just yet, ha ha ha.]

[Yes! Ha ha ha. The time is currently 7:58 AM, and today's first news story is very interesting, Satou-san!]

[Oh yes? Please share, Nakamura-san.]

[I'm sure everyone here in Japan knows Nanase Haruka, the amazing swimmer who won gold for the 100-meter freestyle event in last year's Olympic Games here in Tokyo.]

[Oh yes, yes! He has been very popular with people of all ages – he is very cool and collected for someone so accomplished at such a young age.]

[Yes! He is certainly a recent hero.  He has also been competing well in Asian swimming meets recently, defending his record time.]

[Indeed.]

[Today some news has been announced by both the swimmer and his coach, early this morning.]

[Is this early retirement? I'm sure many of his fans will be sad from this news.]

[No, no, Satou-san; nothing like that. The Olympic athlete has made an announcement this morning that he has gotten engaged to someone outside the professional swimming industry, and is making arrangements for a private ceremony.]

[Oh my! Such wonderful news for Nanase-san, although I'm sure some of his younger fans will be upset at this news too, ha ha ha.]

[Yes, I'm sure you're right! Further details of Nanase-san's engagement will be announced at a press meeting later this morning held by his coach and Nanase-san, and will be covered by the lunchtime news here on NTK.]

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, thanks for reading!
> 
> This was my very first fic commission; I'm not 100% sure that I did it well, but I hope you all enjoyed it!! This is VERY different from my other work, so apologies for that.
> 
> This ended up way longer than I ever expected it to, which probably says something about me, haha.
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/WritingGee)!


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